


The Red Tome

by morgan_cian



Series: Triumvirate [3]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Slavery, F/F, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-22
Updated: 2013-07-22
Packaged: 2017-12-21 00:52:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/893884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morgan_cian/pseuds/morgan_cian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To serve the law, one must not forget its heart, its foundation. A servant of the law becomes a reluctant slave owner.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Red Tome

Firelight flickered as the winds howled, stirring the snow. The bitter wind looked for chinks in the armor of Solitude. The bells that sounded for evening meditation were mostly ignored. The scratch of pen on parchment only paused to dip into the ink well.

It was the age of the Tomes, books of law that sprung up in the ‘afters’... 

…After the great heavenly war of angelyne against their brethren realms.

…After the mighty Triumvirate reign of the three royal brothers. 

…After the fall of the city in the clouds

…After the great darkness that led to the purge of elemental and human alike.

It was the age of the Tomes that would govern all the elemental beings, the humans, and the royal line. As it is stated in each tome, it's color depicting its authority; never again...would the realms repeat the mistakes of those who had gone before.

Never again...

“Augustine, brother, it bodes ill to scratch away hours upon hours,” Brother Duncan shook his head as his fellow scribe continued to mutter, his pen journeying to the ink well over and over.

“The tomes,” Augustine repeated to himself as his nimble fingers copied down the history. The reports were brought down to the firmament from those who observe up above in Cloud City, the important words that would reside in the restored archives at the heart of the City of the Trees. “We must not overlook the tomes.”

“Be well, my brother,” Duncan said with resignation and continued to the meditation hall, to join hands with his fellow precognitives, to know what was, what is, and what is to come.

It surprised him not that the red tome danced along the visions of the brotherhood.

*~*

Ramaya need not her power or the mild vibration in her right palm to herald the coming of her twin brother. Being her rambunctious twin, she always knew. Sighing she pushed away the stack of grievances and challenges to her decisions in the Crossus.

Rami, never quiet, could be heard in the marble hallways, laughing loudly. With the cursory tap to Ramaya's door, Rami entered. Smiling, his bright white teeth against his dark honey toned skin; he led his two slaves on thin silver chains. The amethyst medallion rested against his chest, instead of his robe.

Her hand went to the blood red ruby resting against her own crossa robes. Red signified slave law. The red tome, its pages held the laws governing pleasure slaves. Dark almond shaped eyes took in the pretty blonde human kneeling at Rami's feet, the buxom red head he settled onto his lap as her twin sat across from her. 

Staring down at the growing stack of grievances, Ramaya often wondered if the brotherhood of Solitude had been wrong the day her path had been laid out, to study and become a crossa, bearer of the law. Her gaze flickered at her brother once more, his hand cupping the soft breast of his slave, Merrie. Doubt had always assailed her. She and Rami had been in the circle of paths together, just as they had shared the womb. Surely she had been meant for the more staid stable rulings of royal governance. Merrie's laughter pealed, the bells at her ankles tinkling gaily as she burrowed against her Master's chest.

Rami's hand rested beneath the sheer rose colored fabric wrapped about her hips.

She had to focus, as not to give away her displeasure, her doubts. Rami could read her emotions as well as his own, even if empathy was not his gift. Laurie, Rami's blonde male slave, relaxed languidly against his Master's thigh. If his puffy lips were an indication, Ramaya looked away. No wonder Rami looked like the cat that had his fill of cream.

Rami should have been the one to dictate red tome law. However unlikely, the brotherhood of Solitude had made a mistake, Ramaya would swear to it.

"What brings you to my chambers, Sir Lord Crossi, it is not eventide," Ramaya looked out her window at the marbled palisades, "Nay, it is not even noontide." Her forehead puckered. "I thought you had meetings with the King's secretary and then lunch with his Majesty."

"King Kier'th was...indisposed." Rami looked down at Laurie, lifting his chin upward. His thumb slid over the soft plump flesh. He grinned when Laurie dutifully suckled the digit, his cheeks hollowing.

"You decide to interrupt my day instead," Ramaya busied herself, stacking and restacking her correspondence. Rami was just being Rami but his blatant sexuality with his beloved slaves made her uncomfortable. He flirted near the line with many of the additions to the origins of the red tome.

Rami lifted his head, his features softening with adoration. Ramaya blushed at the tenderness. They had relied on each other since their birth. She knew her brother cared deeply for her and as much as he exasperated her, there was nothing she would not do for him.

"Our day, sister mine, the day of our birth."

Even as she smiled at her brother, her insides coated with ice. For their father would remind them before moontide, the day of their mother's death. 

"I had not forgotten." She opened the drawer on her desk and pulled out the carefully rolled parchment. "This is for you to take to Duwera's stall at the market. I had it commissioned from his gallery in the fire plains. Present this parchment to him and give him delivery details."

Rami accepted the parchment shifting Merrie on his lap. The slave faced Ramaya, straddled across Rami's thigh. Her brother's hand splayed across Merrie's bared abdomen, his fingers plucking at the small hoop pierced through her navel. "Should I even ask what you had commissioned, sister mine?" Rami's teeth flashed playfully once more, but the faint blush of his stubbled cheeks indicated his pleasure.

"Delayed gratification, brother mine," Ramaya returned. She gave Rami a pointed look as his fingers slipped beneath Merrie's wrap and between the girl's spread thighs, "A lesson you have never learned."

Rami threw back his head, his long raven hair rippling over his crossi robe. He handed the parchment to Laurie and then his hand settled in the thick blonde hair, carding softly. Laurie sighed and pushed into his Master's touch, “A lesson you continue to teach."

Settling back into her soft leather chair, Ramaya crossed her hands in her lap. Rami had never been the patient sort. Her gift giving may have deflected him but it would not deter him from his original purpose.

"Your gift will be delivered as well," Rami said. Ramaya could feel his excitement pouring off of him in waves. She could almost imagine a young pup wiggling for attention. She bit her lip to keep from laughing. Quickly sobering and remembering their dour father's demand, "But father will expect us..."

Her voice trailed off. Rami's normally animated features went cold, his expressive liquid brown eyes flat. "No more, Ramaya, not even for you. We have our station in the realm, even above our father. Just because he is angelyne, he is not superior. We have met our maturity many, many winters ago. We do not need to cower beneath his disapproval." Merrie turned inward once more, her arms going about Rami's neck. Laurie pushed his forehead into Rami's thigh as if to hide. 

Ramaya watched her brother soothe his slaves, kissing Merrie's forehead. Drawing Laurie up onto his feet, Rami wrapped an arm about the slave's slender hips and pulled him against his side. Their nearness soothed her brother. His dark eyes were still emotionless. "No more," he repeated, biting each word.

Raja blamed them for the death his beloved Rosalyn. He blamed them for being born with a slight magical mutation, precognition. Rami and Ramaya were not born with the tell tale wing marks on their backs, instead the small eye in the palm of their right hands. The twins would forever look human, despite the ability to manipulate the air. Even after the dark times, angelynes’ sense of aloof superiority had not wavered. Ramaya and Rami were twice damned in the eyes of their father.

When it came to their father, Ramaya knew that she should trust Rami's intuition, the sight of what was to come. Ramaya saw what was, no matter the attempts to muddy the truth. And what was, she watched her brother cuddle his slaves, probably figured into her own failures at pacifying those who violated red tome law.

With her angelyne nature, Ramaya could easily fall into the trap of seeing slaves as no more than property. The constant challenges and modifications to tome law seemed to be greatest in red tome law. Ramaya understood the heart of it and held firm, giving fuel to her detractors.

Her father being her most vocal opponent; over the dinner table, at the public market, it mattered not. Raja's words bruised her and Rami was forever trying to shield her. However, he was still their father and he was alone, in his hurt, his love for Rosalyn unwavering. No matter how Raja slashed at her, Ramaya's heart softened.

"Rami," She bit her lip. She could hear the childish wheedling in her tone.

Rami reached over her desk, scattering carefully stacked letters, shifting Merrie in his lap, Laurie draped over his shoulder. Her brother's hand was warm and comforting, as was the love tumbling off of him in waves. "No more, Maya, sister mine. This is our night." His stern frown softened as he lifted Ramaya's hand and placed it against his cheek. His stubble prickled at her palm before he turned and placed a kiss against her skin. "Come to my apartments, Maya, my sister, let me give you the gift I have purchased for you."

Touched, Ramaya caressed her brother's cheek before sitting back once more. Taking a fortifying breath, knowing their father would be furious, she nodded. "For eventide meal, brother mine, I will be there."

Rami stood, cheerful that his business had been carried out satisfactorily; he clipped leads to both Merrie and Laurie's collars, but not before pinching Merrie's peaked nipples beneath sheer pink cloth and cupping Laurie's groin. Ramaya had to refrain from rolling her eyes. She knew her brother well. He would not be working for the rest of the day. In his chambers, yes, but by the heat in his eyes, working, no.

*~*

The Crossus, the seat of law of the Apex, was a sprawling miniature city unto itself, with many levels, spires and turrets. The primary level held the receiving rooms where cases were heard and presided over by Crossi and Crossa alike. Above the main level, there were many rooms, the chambers of the Crossus, the libraries, the alcoves for runners and apprentices. Past the marbled inner court yard that held the four points combining to for an apex lead to the personal quarters for those who worked within the Crossus.

Being siblings, Ramaya own appointment of rooms were not far from her brother. Each held a raised portico that faced the sea. On quiet nights, Ramaya would stare at the moon washed rippling surface. She imagined she could hear the songs rising up from the underwater domed cities. 

Ramaya had been enchanted as a child as she studied merfolk lore and legend alongside its history. Merfolk were unique in the form realms, living in the water but allowed to walk on land. It was whispered that it was the legacy of the triumvirate prince, by his bloodline that somehow survived the mixed blood purge.

Her brother would never forgive her if she wore her crossa robes into his private sanctum. Ramaya exchanged the white and silver, for red. Once gifted with a tome medallion, it could not be removed. Her shari was simple, leaving her arms and belly bare. It felt nice, the caress of sea air across her skin. The skirt was full and covered her bare feet. She had always favored pearls, more whimsical love of the sea. She left her hair flowing but twisted iridescent beads within her raven locks to hold them back away from her face. She wore pearls around her right wrist and left ankle, gifts from Rami on previous celebrations of their birth. Mindful of her associates in the arched walkways, she pulled her soft wrap closer, covering her from shoulder to hip.

Merrie greeted her before she could even tap the brass spindle. Her brother's slave wore nothing but wisps of lace and chains. Rami knew that Ramaya had entered his home. She handed her wrap and was hugged against the warmth of her brother's bare chest.

"Come, Maya, sister mine," Rami smiled, taking both of Ramaya's hands in his own, kissing her forehead. "Laurie found the best finds in the food district, breads, sweet cakes, meats, cheeses..."

"Vegetables?" Ramaya bit the inside of her cheek and Rami's disgusted wrinkle of slender nose.

"Pah shaw, nay, sister mine, but spiced wine and heavy creams.”

"And tummy aches as if we were but ten winters once more."

Rami tilted his back and gave the full bodied laugh that Ramaya adored. Her brother was definitely dressed comfortably. The leaf green sarong was so soft looking that Ramaya’s fingers itched to touch. His long black hair was bound back at his nape; his amethyst glittered against the tan skin of his chest. Though they were twins, Ramaya always felt bland next to Rami’s exuberance. Simple gold hoops twinkled at his earlobes in the flickering candlelight.

Her brother led her to his main room, full of soft materials and fine textures. The fire burned low in the hearth. Ramaya sat in the offered low couch, relaxing against the pillows. She watched as Rami turned and pulled Laurie into his arms and devoured his mouth. The glittering fabric of his blue wrap barely covered his buttocks. Giving the firm rounded cheeks a pat, Rami joined Ramaya sitting across from her on a similar low slung couch.

Laurie and Merrie returned with trays of food, wine, and glasses. Ramaya saluted her brother with her glass before savoring the sweet red wine that exploded across the tongue with spices. She accepted the plate that Laurie offered and watched his lithe form move back to his Master. Rami fed both of them by hand. Merrie and Laurie leaned against the sofa beneath their Master, their fingers tangled in easy companionship. Rami looked very much the indolent prince, relaxed and pampered.

Ramaya’s heart thumped hard, aching at the loneliness of her life. Self-imposed could be her argument, but after case after case of pleasure slave abuse, the ease of their lives being exchanged as carelessly as coin, Ramaya just could not bring herself to own another. Even if she understood the heart of red tome law, even with her brother as an example with his adoration for Laurie and Merrie easily expressed, Ramaya just could not do it.

When the meal was cleared, Rami had Laurie in his lap. The shimmering blue fabric fluttered to the floor, the boy’s head tipped back with a quiet moan. Gift or no gift, it was time for Ramaya to leave. She started to back away, to call her best wishes for the next year of their lives from the entryway.

Rami’s dark eyes pinned her and Ramaya froze. Her brother’s hand slid up and down Laurie’s straining cock. It was not like she had not seen it before, but the lust in Rami’s eyes and the muted sounds of pleasure from Laurie made Ramaya’s thighs clench with need. It had been too long, too easily fleeting to meet her needs and turn her thoughts back to work. 

And then she saw the flash of her brother’s smile. Like when he would tweak her sides, scaring her away from studies. Got you, sister mine… his childish voice would crow.

Merrie appeared from the darkened hallway, in nothing but skin and rippling chains. Her red curls teased her nipples, her hips swayed in the shadowed light. 

She was not alone.

Ramaya’s breath caught and her mouth went dry.

Merrie had a slave following at her heels, naked but for the collar and thin metal lead. Merrie stopped in front of Ramaya with a graceful curtsey. Her hands offered up the lead to Ramaya. Hesitant, she took the chain and watched as the young man knelt gracefully at her feet. Merrie took her place at her Master’s side.

The young man had perfect form, no doubt hammered into him by his training house. Pretty for a human, but not rare, slave trainers usually chose the pretty ones for pleasure slaves. His buttocks rested on his heels, his slender thighs spread wide. His graceful hands sat relaxed and open against his thighs. His ball sac and flaccid cock was framed between his thighs and the cut of his narrow hips. The young man’s body was hairless but for the curling brown hair that shone with gold highlights in the soft light. He chanced to look up and met Ramaya’s eyes before darting downward again. Fear and wariness touched Ramaya in the brief glimpse of bright blue.

Her hand clenched around the lead. Ramaya turned to give it back to her brother, to wish him happiness with his newly acquired. Rami merely smiled, his hand lazily stroking his squirming slave, and Ramaya knew even before he opened his mouth.

"Rami, no."

"Happy day of our birth, sister mine," Rami shifted so that Laurie and Merrie were cradled against his sides. "He is your gift." When Ramaya went to protest, her brother frowned, "You would refuse a gift from me?" The confusion and hurt washed over Ramaya.

"Mimi, no," Ramaya's hands fell to her sides, the lead held loosely. She hadn't called her brother by the childish name in many, many cycles. "You know my feelings on this." Her free hand gestured to encompass the kneeling boy and Laurie and Merrie as well.

Rami's jaw clenched, "You are alone, Ramaya, if not for me, then always alone." His own childhood hurts crashed over Ramaya in waves, "Father knows not, we are not meant to be alone, the gods decided the fate of life and death," He opened his right palm, the mark that matched her own, "Just because we can see it, and he cannot, just because fate decided our mother's time and he could not prevent it, means not that we are to be alone." He stood, leaving his slaves and took his place in front of his sister. He touched the boy's dark curls, Rami's dark eyes serious and flat, "You also know that complaints only go so far before more drastic measures are taken."

Ramaya flinched. She was a good steward of the red tome, despite her detractors. She also knew Rami was right, with enough formalities directed to her decisions as crossa, there could be inquiry from the brotherhood. It was rare but there was precedent for a member of the Crossus to be remanded back into the solitude, to live out the rest of days in shame, nothing but a small cell, parchment and ink, forced to transcribe and endure visions alone.

Her brother could feel her emotions so near to the surface. Rami held in her in his arms, protecting Ramaya as he had since they were children. She burrowed into his strong embrace, knowing the shelter was but fleeting.

"Give the boy a chance, Maya," Rami's arms tightened when Ramaya stiffened. "Just try, it is all that I ask, to share your life and to have blessed upcoming year."

"Mimi," Ramaya sighed and went lax in her brother's arms. She could feel the touch of his lips to her hair. She never could deny him.

Easing away, Ramaya stared at the young man's bowed head. Her fingers itched to see if his loose curls were as soft as they looked. Her father's heated words about abominations, curses, and loneliness echoed in her mind. Tentatively, she reached out and cupped his chin. His skin was soft with just a hint of evening stubble. Her thumb traced over his jaw as she added pressure to lift him, raising the bright blue eye to meet her own. 

His emotions were volatile, almost enough to make her recoil. She was used to the gentle buzz of elemental beings with the occasional bright flare of humans. Being around Laurie and Merrie, they barely registered unless Rami was being Rami and instigating them, their needs, their desperation, their sole focus to please their Master.

The boy, her slave gift, battered her with fear, anger, despair, the desire to flee. As she focused on him, she could see the fine tremors in the lean muscle, his effort to hold still, to hold fast to his training. Ramaya bit down on her bottom lip, wanting to trace the full lower lip of the boy as his lips parted and she could feel the warmth of his breath on her skin.

Serving red tome law, Ramaya oversaw the disagreement of the owners. Only cases of neglect and abject harm allowed her to have contact with slaves themselves. Considered rare in her predecessor's chambers, Ramaya took a more hands on approach. Based on the tenets held within the tome, Ramaya questioned slaves privately. Had their wounds documented and mapped by elvin healers. And on red tome's original statutes, Ramaya would levy rulings that did not always favor the owner. 

In extreme cases, she would use her own power of what is to see the slave's current livelihood to piece together the ‘what was’.

It put her on the firing line of complaints, her person and her integrity called into question. Her empathetic nature was seen in the realms as weakness. Ramaya would admit to the weakness of a slave's absolute desolation. It would keep her awake twisting in her bed in the depths of moontide. The horrors of examinations would give her nightmares; bad enough that she would awaken with Rami curled around her, mimicking their very beginnings in the womb.

Intellectually, Ramaya understood that actual practices of slave owners were not so bad. She only had to look to Rami as an example. Her brother had no desire for a mate or children, not with their respective childhood. He did not want to spend his days alone or in clandestine affairs. Sensing that she was not actively seeking a mate, Rami took the matter into his own hands.

Ramaya loved her brother; his protective nature could not bear to see her alone. His fierce revulsion of their father would not allow Rami to see the morbid predictions come true. He took the matter into his own hands and purchased a slave for a reluctant sister who would never do so on her own.

Giving the boy a wan smile, she said firmly, "Stand." His graceful movements were fluid as he stood before her, only slightly taller. Nodding her thanks to Rami, Ramaya placed her hand on the boy's left bicep and felt him tremble. She softened, "Hold still, this will not hurt."

Power flowed through her, calling the wind. It lifted the ends of her hair playfully. Rami laughed, she knew he could feel the tremors in the air. Her palm glowed gold where it touched the soft warm skin of the young man. Ramaya watched him as his eyes fluttered shut and he bit his red bottom lip with white teeth. He looked young and vulnerable. The power softened and died out. He was now her own, her mark rested on his skin.

A very primal emotion grabbed her by the throat as his big blue eyes sought her out.

Mine!

*~*

The pen scratched furiously. Pages of parchment littered the desk, drying in the weak winter light.

The great purge extinguished the merging of human and elemental beings. The new age relegated humans as property to those who bore the magic of the elements: air, earth, water, and fire. It was decreed that the mythical bond mate was long dead. No more, no longer needed to aid the procreation of the royal blood line. The blood of the realms would stay pure.

...Angelyne would bear angelyne...

...Elvins would bear elvin...

...Merfolk would bear merchildren

...Daemons would bear daemons...

However, blood and magic knows no boundary. Magic and primal forces do not bow down in supplication to the proclivities of mortals. Despite the great purge, the mutation of precognition emerged.

Children bore the resemblance of their bloodline, except for the eye mark in their palm. At adolescence, power would emerge but not the characteristics of wing, horn, fang, or fin. The precognitive looked human much to the despair of the parents but held the power of their element and thus the true futility of the purge.

Never again would the law allow for such a dark age, the slaying of children with the new gift. Instead, they would be raised in solitude, by the brotherhood of the scribe, in the winter realm.

 

"The story will not go untold," Brother Duncan muttered to Father Mortimer as they watched their fellow brother scribbling tirelessly, as if the task were breath and life itself.

"It will be both exultation and tribulation for Brother Augustine." Mortimer intoned, stepping back to close the door to the candlelit cell.

"You have seen thus?" Brother Duncan's thick eyebrows rose in surprise. He rubbed his eye mark against his robe, the gentle vibration making his palm damp.

Father Mortimer kept his own council by turning and walking down the marbled hallway. The bells of meditation began to ring. Duncan peered at his fellow brother with a contemplative frown before scurrying to catch up and join the ranks for moontide's reveal.

*~*

Ramaya gasped, letting go of the young man and taking a step back. Rami was at her side, his strong arms holding her upright. Ramaya's body trembled with the electric shock of primal recognition.

"Maya? What is the matter?" Rami's lips peeled back to snarl at the frightened slave.

"No brother mine, it is not his fault." Ramaya took a deep settling breath before easing her brother's concern. She cupped his face in her palm, her beloved brother and gave him a weak smile, "I have only known in theory of the mark of ownership. Its impact," She searched for the correct word that would not further upset her twin, "surprised me."

She looked to the boy. His lips were bitten by straight white teeth. Ramaya could not sense pain or fear outside of what had already been just beneath the surface. Instead, the young man was swamped with curiosity and arousal. The pink in his cheeks was almost endearing.

Rami's expression smoothed as his hand traveled over the length of her hair. He moved back to the low couch and sat between his slaves, his arms pulling both Merrie and Laurie tight against his sides. "You will stay? We have sweet cakes and berry juice for dessert."

Ramaya studied the young man who had knelt once more; his head was bowed, hiding the bright intelligent blue eyes. 

One of Ramaya's internal conflicts with most pleasure slave owners had to do with the slave's mind. She could do little for their hearts, their lot in life; it bothered her when a slave was treated so callously. Not as a person, but an object, with no value, no thought, a pretty toy, with warm receptive bodies. She could not read their thoughts, but the futility of their emotions cut her to the quick.

Then there were owners such as Rami, who purchased and owned the humans, used them for their purpose but cared deeply for the lowest of the realms. Even now, Ramaya wanted to hold her brother’s face between her palms and kiss his lips softly at the love and lust that poured from him as his hands traveled over the soft flesh of his ‘property.’

With her immersion into red tome law, its base from the royal house itself, the law never intended for the abject harm of pleasure slave and servant slave alike, rather, their care and protection as they were lesser beings without the power of magic.

There were tiny notations of bonding within the red tome that was blatantly disregarded in the current climate of ownership. Ramaya had asked her superiors about the postscripts. Her inquiries were mostly ignored, or rather told that it was merely history and the purview of the elvin archivists.

Shaking herself, Ramaya dared to reach out and let the soft curls sift through her fingers. He kept his head down. When Ramaya gently squeezed his nape beneath the dense hair, bright eyes lifted once more. She wanted to ask his name. Beneath her lashes, Ramaya looked to Rami once more. Despite the fact her brother being quite besotted by his slaves, she decided to keep quiet.

The sharing of a name seemed far too intimate between new owner and slave for Rami's sitting room.

With a calming breath, air flow from her nose and into her lungs, to be expelled once more. Ramaya slid her finger tips along the boy's soft skin down to his shoulder, "Stand." 

Muscles rippled, grace evident in the lithe slender body. Ramaya clasped the lead in her fingers, taking in her mark on his bicep. The swirls and dips were similar to the lineage mark of power on Ramaya's inner forearm.

"Thank you, brother mine," Ramaya met Rami's mirror gaze. The look in his liquid eyes was understanding. "I will retire for moontide." She bit her lip and shifted her weight on her feet. "I will need to make accommodations for my gift."

Her brother's good humor twitched at the corners of his full lips. Ramaya could not read thoughts but she did not have to. She knew her brother was thinking of all manners of lasciviousness. He said simply with a lazy drawl, "Happy day, sister mine."

*~*

The first thing Ramaya did was find a length of soft cloth for the boy to wrap about his hips. A good decision, she thought ruefully, both of their moods relaxed somewhat.

Each suite of rooms within the Crossus was similar in its setup. Small foyer, a sitting room, a dining area, the main bedroom with bathing chamber and slave dormitory. Ramaya knew that Rami used his dormitory for storage, preferring that Merrie and Laurie share a space with him.

Ramaya never had a reason to even explore the dormitory in her own suite. Her sitting area was lined with books and parchment, spilling over into her bedroom. She preferred quiet evenings sitting on the portico, swaying on the hammock, listing to the distance sounds of waves crashing against the beach.

Pausing, she thought of the ancestral home near the border of elvin lands that she and Rami inherited on their mother’s death. Their father did not use it; rather, he lived in an apartment within the city. Close enough to make their lives, hers and Rami’s, miserable, as miserable as Raja felt. She often wondered about the small estate, a tantalizing escape. Would she still be able to hear the ocean? Neither here nor there with the current problem at hand, she pushed the thoughts away.

She inhaled and exhaled, finding a center of calm. Magic flowed from her fingertips and the seal to the dormitory unlocked. The boy’s tension swelled as did his fear. Without thinking, she took his hand and drew him close.

“Fear is no way to begin,” She stated the words simply, trying for kindness. His blue eyes widened before ducking his head quickly. Ramaya shifted her weight on her feet. “My name is Ramaya; I’m a Crossa for pleasure slave law. I will not harm you, but do not infer that it means no punishment if needed.” She tightened her grip on his hand to keep him from kneeling. “It is common law and respect for you to address me as Mistress or Lady, which ever you prefer.”

The boy wetted his bottom lip, swiping it with a quick flash of muscle, the pink flesh glistening, “Yes, Mistress.”

It took some work, remembrance of old techniques to mute the onslaught of his emotions. How did she assure him that she expected him to behave according to his station and that she wasn’t going to hurt him because she could? Blasted Rami!

Her grip relaxed, “Look at me please.” His chin lifted hesitantly. “I know the practice of not meeting the eyes of those above you. Outside my suite, it will be expected. But here or when we are alone, I expect you to look at me.” Ramaya kept her voice even and firm. She really wanted to expound on the silly practice but it was not the time. “What is your name?”

Different emotions flitted across his features. Such an expressive face, Ramaya thought. Her insides clenched at the current training practices, no wonder he was afraid, his face gave away everything. She did not need her empathy to realize that. And it made much more sense why his emotions were so wild and tumultuous. 

Rigid and stiff, Ramaya could tell he was fighting to hold her gaze. Fine tremors racked his slender body, “Whatever it pleases you to call me, Mistress.”

Another stupid custom, Ramaya wanted to roll her eyes. Humans, their lot in life sealed because of their blood line and lack of power. No families, no better than animals used as breeding stock, women and men segregated, children being whisked away at birth to their gender house, to be raised with like kind, no bonds allowed to form. The training houses would select them, hard labor, house, and pleasure the three pathways for a human. Indoctrinating them into the lowest of the low, the Master or Mistress most powerful, next to the elusive ghods themselves and it started with something simple as a name. Even more insidious, no pathway was guaranteed, rather, the life of a slave was at the mercy of the capricious master.

Blowing a curl away from her eyes, Ramaya replied patiently, “What were you called at your training house?”

“Ashley, Mistress.”

Her nose twitched. Ramaya did not particularly like the name but was not going to fall into the lording owner trappings. She would get used to it, just as Ashley would have to get accustomed to her.

“Ashley it is, come, it is well into moontide.”

The dormitory was sparse and unused. It opened into a small foyer, two doors to the left, and a short hallway with two doors on each side. Ramaya could sense Ashley settling; no doubt the surroundings more familiar. Not wanting to poke around with her slave at her heels, she opened the first door on her right. Relief was welcome as the small bedroom was revealed, two sets of tiered beds, four mattresses obviously waiting to be claimed with slaves of her rank and station.

“Sleep well, Ashley,” She motioned him into the room, well stocked with candles and a small window washed in silver moonlight. “I will fetch you in the morning sunrise.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

It was Ramaya’s turn to bite her lip with uncertainty. Ashley looked small and vulnerable in the room with four beds and barren walls. With a gentle kiss of power, the candlelight extinguished. Darkness would speed his journey into sleep. Resolutely, Ramaya vacated the room and closed the door. Ashley would need time and his own space to accept the change in his life.

She would not find the peaceful of slumber. Needing to be more aware and curiosity getting the better of her, she opened the door near the entrance of the dormitory. An unremarkable bathing chamber, large and open with a sunken tub and mounted heads to allow for showers of water, she closed the door.

Why would there be a second? Ramaya could understand the bedrooms, even though space for sixteen slaves seemed to be a bit much, and a bathing chamber. Would the other innocuous door be a dining space?

Dread curdled her belly as the door swung open. The floor was made of rubber, no doubt shipped in from the fire plains. No window to break the sterile appearance, a silver hook was mounted from the ceiling. A wooden cross, a bench with restraints, and several shelves were off the side. Ramaya’s hands clenched at the organized implements for punishment hanging from hooks and tethers, as well as the unobtrusive bed sitting, in the corner.

The bed’s purpose rang loud and clear in the silent space.

Memories of visions battered at Ramaya, making her knees weaken and her body tremble. Flashes of blood splattered skin, despair, feral lust, fear and desolation hurt Ramaya, her soul keening and curling into its self.

The door slammed shut with a gust of angry wind. Ramaya fled the slave dormitory, a moment of indecision between the safety of her room or the moon drenched portico.

She needed the air, she needed the sound of the sea, she wanted to taste the salt and feel the comfort of the infinity of the sky, her angelyne brethren hidden behind cloud and star. The need to take flight overwhelmed her. Her bare feet skipped over the smooth wooden floors flowing into marble. Fingers clenched, skin pulling over bone as she gripped the railing. Eyes going to the heavens and then the sea, the warm air wrapped around her trembling body.

Freedom

It tasted so sweet after the oppressive room. Ramaya breathed in and out, great gasps of air, forcing her lungs to accept and her body to relax.

She thought of Ashley, in the small barren room filled with empty beds. An indication of the fluidity of his life, just a number, no better than the inanimate objects in his room, his safe space, Ramaya’s labored breath jammed into her throat.

Her knees gave out and she stared up at the blinking stars. The sounds of the sea gave her no comfort. She knew the law. She enforced it the best that she could. Being far removed in the hallowed halls of the Crossus has given her a false sense of security. That she was protecting the heart of the law, protecting those that had no recourse other than what her station could provide.

Tears slipped down her cheeks, the soft wind drying them, her skin tight and uncomfortable. Her loving brother with his best intentions, she choked back a sardonic laugh.

“By the ghods, Rami,” she whispered out into the lonely void, “what am I going to do now?” 

Her home seemed so foreign. No longer her safe space, what more could lurk? No doubt the guardians of the Crossus had thought the preparations helpful, each suite provided for the acceptance of slave ownership.

Ramaya did not disagree with slavery. It was the fabric of her world, just as the elements bound the four realms and joined them at the Apex.

Little seeds of doubt planted as she thought of the tiny notations documented within the red tome.

Exhaustion won out. Ramaya curled into her hammock, focused on the sounds of the sea. The night breeze caused her flesh to pebble and her arms to wrap about her body for warmth. Problems born out of the dark ages would not be solved as the moon traveled across the sky. For Ramaya, solutions would be found within the heart of the law, resting in the pages of the red tome.

Her greater problem would be balancing the injustices that she witnessed each day with the twisting and bending interpretations that favored owner over slave. That paled in comparison of the slave she had to care for.

It hammered home the tenets written within the parchment. Ashley was hers to care for, to shelter, to protect, and the darker primal parts of her natured whispered, to use. 

The gentle wind rocked her, swayed her to and fro. Ramaya’s dark eyes fluttered shut. Dreams of battered slaves and Ashley writhing with arousal tapered off into the peaceful dark of deep sleep.

*~*

Ramaya prepared a simple breakfast of bread, cheese, and fruit. Her movements felt slow and cumbersome. She had spent as much time as she could to avoid her new reality by soaking up the sun as it tracked slowly across the sky.

With dread curdling her belly, she pushed herself into the dormitory. Ashley would rely solely on her. As much as Ramaya disagreed with current slave practices, she was not a complete ingénue. She was presented with the harsher realities within her chambers.

Dwelling on those realities and avoiding Ashley would get her nowhere. 

She found him kneeling, naked in the center of the room. His blanket folded neatly at the foot of his small bed. His face was lifted to the window. Features were peaceful and painted gold in the sunlight.

Ramaya stood in the doorway and studied him. He was beautiful. She much preferred the hints of stubble that had appeared since moontide, shadowing his chin and his lips. He no longer looked like a youth but the young man that he was. Ramaya would receive the teetering and whispers behind hands if she allowed him the small bit of facial hair. It mattered not, if there was one superseding rule, Ashley was hers.

The feeling was both intoxicating and nerve-wracking.

"Ashley," Pitching her voice low, Ramaya did not want to startle him. He flinched anyway, shuffling on his knees to bow low at her feet, his forehead near her toes. His back was lean and graceful, with tiny hints of fine white lines. Her lips tightened at the thought of brutal training houses. 

"Stand, and join me for morning meal," She waited until he stood and gathered his bearings. His feelings were more subdued, most likely due to the morning meditation she interrupted.

Holding up a hand, Ramaya stopped him from going to his knees at the table. "In my home, you will sit to my left at the table, unless I say otherwise."

"Yes, Mistress."

Caught with a feeling of uncertainty, Ramaya thought of Rami. He fed both Laurie and Merrie from his hand. His slaves chattered amongst themselves as they prepared their Master's food and knelt patiently. Food service was usually delegated to house slaves but Rami had little patience for them. Ramaya worried her bottom lip thinking of the open beds in the dormitory and lingering thoughts of her ancestral home.

She never wanted to be a slave owner, preferring a solitary life. Now she was considering a second one. Blasted Rami!

Ashley twitched in his seat, uncertain as Ramaya. She gave a sigh and placed food upon a plate, sitting it before him.

"Eat everything." She ordered as she poured him a tall glass of water from the waiting carafe.

His movements were careful and deliberate. Chewing his food, swallowing, and then sipping his water, Ashley did not pick up the cutlery, using his hands instead. Another simple derogatory jab at the position he held, taught and ingrained from his childhood.

Focusing on her own meal, Ramaya thought of her schedule and calendar. Her eventide was fairly light; she would have Pascal move the appointments around. The morn she would have to deal with, an interview with a slave owner’s secretary. The complaint was that the slaves were emaciated. A direct ruling would be thin, penalties only. However, proving that expenditures did not equal the amount per slave, she would have more grounds to pull in the individual slaves for interview.

Then she would be able to go the coastal market of La Mer to purchase supplies for Ashley. A blanket wrapped around his slender hips was not enough. Clearing away her meal, she went to the bedroom and gathered her white and silver crossa robes. Mind busy she was at the portal of her suite thoughts bouncing from Ashley to the current case.

Ashley

Cursing many of the idiosyncrasies of training houses, one was not allowing slaves to use common thought, rather relying on the master for the most basic of decisions.

“Were you taught to read?” Ramaya winced at the bluntness of her question.

Blue eyes widened, “Yes, Mistress, as well as song, dance, and many of the pleasure arts.”

Her fingers twitched to go to his hair. Clearing her throat, Ramaya continued, “Very good, Ashley, bathe, read whatever you like, and make yourself a meal when the sun is at its highest point.”

His shoulders slumped minutely, “Yes, Mistress.”

“I will be back before moon rise, be well, Ashley.”

His listless tone tugged at her heart when he repeated himself, “Yes, Mistress.”

Straightening her own shoulders, Ramaya exited the portal and made her way to her chambers. Pascal would also be heralding correspondence to and from her brother, Rami.

*~*

 

Tired eyes followed the words on the parchment. Growling, the pen dug into the thin material. Words were scratched out, whole paragraphs, only to be begun once more. 

History will mark the downfall of peace with birth of the raven haired angelyne. A son of the royal bloodline birthed by angelyne and beget by daemon. Rare he was even in the first hours of life, the shadows of wing marks of an angelyne and the rich black hair of daemon. An anomaly but not dwelt upon for the royal bloodline holds the power of all four elements...

...and the bond mate allowed for procreation.

War came to the four kingdoms by hybrid powers, siege lay upon the Apex, and the mighty warriors from above rained down upon the land. Peace was but short at the end of the triumvirate reign of the three brothers. And ultimate blame was put on the shoulders of the raven haired angelyne king and his half breed mate.

On the rise and reestablishment of the kingdoms, royal law heralded the new age with the unmovable decree. One male child to bear the royal line. The arranged marriage duly noted in the power of the male heir. No more treatises between the realms, no more mixing of power. The law spread out over the lands, leaving the humans as the lowest of the low.

Never again would human and elemental being create a child.

The shadows dwell in the angelyne realm, no longer pure as the glistening spires of Cloud City. The raven remains.

Ink smeared as stained hands scrubbed over pale gaunt flesh. Cracking joints belied moans of pleasure before the pen returned to the ink pot once more.

*~*

Pascal was hovering near Ramaya's chambers. A smile threatened as her lips twitched. Out of all the heralds and apprentices, the white blonde angelyne was by far her favorite. He was vying for the position of one her secretaries, parchment and pen at the ready.

"Light day today, Lady Crossa," Unlike most blonde angelynes, Pascal's eyes glinted a merry grey, almost silver.

"And it will be even lighter," Ramaya responded, the door of her chambers swinging wide with a gentle nudge of breeze. "I am meeting with Olivier," Pascal nodded, scanning her calendar. "It will take most of the morning, reschedule post noontide. I have a matter of a personal nature to attend. Convey my apologies, Pascal."

"Yes, Lady Crossa," Pearly wings fluttered as he took her missive into the working area, already a busy of hub of activity. 

Ramaya pushed thoughts of Ashley away as they surfaced, his loneliness and dejection. She had to focus her attention to the case at hand.

Her morning was fraught with intense conversation, a flurry of activity to and fro from her chambers. The case and its defensive gathering had Ramaya grinding her teeth. She had been quite clear in her initial inquiry to the slave holder, Ronan, an elvin herder, to be prepared with documentation to review incoming and outgoing expenditures. 

Ramaya was not a novice crossa and knew barely concealed tactics when she was presented with them. Each ledger in question, Olivier would signal a brief recess to send runners to Ronan's small office in the city proper of Apex. They planned to frustrate her into premature action, they would be sadly mistaken. Each document produced was recorded and archived into the findings to be reviewed for future action against Ronan. Ramaya knew that he was starving his slaves, pleasure and household alike. She was not going to let him slip through her fingers. Already she was building a case for the aid of brown tome law as well.

She used the stretches of time to send and respond to messages from her brother. Her first message was to point out her misgivings with the slave dormitory and its contents. How like Rami and his response...

~I thought you knew. I am quite sure the slave dormitory and supplies were a part of the tour when we moved from Solitude to the Crossus. I had mine cleaned out and used for storage. I can't decide if I wish to send some things on to the ancestral home. More often than not, I hold onto them. How inconvenient it would be to request a favored pair of earrings for Merrie or toy for Laurie only to find that I have sent them on. Something to consider for your new boy, sister mine. ~R

Ramaya rolled her eyes as yet another runner was dispatched from her chambers. Sitting back into her chair, she remembered the tour of the Crossus. For Rami, it had been a great adventure. For Ramaya, it had been overwhelming the clash of emotions just below the surface grated on her nerves and her shields. It was so unlike the austerity and peaceful reserve of Solitude. Once she had been granted her suite, it had become her escape, her safe place to relax. A place to surround herself with quiet and books, and while she was quite aware of the slave dormitory, she for the most part ignored it. 

Deciding to leave that debate for a later time, she pulled out a blank piece of parchment. Olivier and his runners had their heads together whispering. She penned a request for the best sellers of supplies at La Mer for pleasure slaves.

~I'll go with you, sister mine, my influence would get you better deals.~R

She politely declined. Ramaya knew that she did not need Rami's overwhelming influence in the merchant stalls of La Mer. He was the one that had gotten her into her current predicament.

Looking to the window and the cast of the sun, she held up her hand to still the twittering of Olivier's entourage.

"This inquiry has not been concluded, gentlemen." Her stern frown held down the protests even as she could feel the frustration and simmering anger. "The fault of extended sessions is your own. You were not prepared for the dictates of the inquiry and you are wasting the time of this office." Ramaya gestured for Pascal to enter. "Pascal will guide you to the planners for a continuance session. This office will not be misguided or easily fooled. It would do well to remind Master Ronan of that fact."

Olivier's countenance was a thunder cloud, staring at Ramaya with beady eyes as he made his departure. Ramaya gave a sigh of pleasure when the echoes of emotion were finally quiet.

"Shall I send for noon tide meal, Lady Crossa?" Pascal smiled to her. Ramaya's lips twitched, no doubt the handsome angelyne was looking for an invite to share her repast.

"No, not this day," She stood and stretched her back. Waving hand at the mess on her desk, Ramaya continued, "Have this atrocity filed and archived. I will look over what little bit of findings discovered on the morn, Pascal."

He bowed his white blonde head and covered his heart with his hand, "On the morrow, Lady Crossa, be well."

*~*

Ramaya shed her crossa robe and draped it over her arm. The breeze off the sea flirted with her curls and made her smile. It felt good to be in the sun and the air, the bare skin of her arms and midriff warmed and comforted.

She chose a light lunch of meat rolled into thin fried bread and cool fruit juice as she made her way into the busy stalls. The sights and sounds were overwhelming, likewise to her shields against the melting pot of emotions. Hawkers and vendors called out to patrons and fellow merchants alike. Ramaya would much rather spend her time walking down the deserted beach but she did not take her duties lightly. Ashley was a much more pressing concern than her mental comfort.

Wiping her fingers, she lifted her skirt to keep it from being stepped on in the hustle and bustle of activity. Not wanting Rami's assistance, Ramaya was well aware she was out of her element. 

Biting her lip, she skirted the busy market to the shadowy edges. The nondescript door opened at her hesitant tap. The burly fire daemon glared down at her with lively yellow eyes and puckered deep red skinned frown. Not quite a snarl, but it was close.

"Far away from the Crossus, Lady," he muttered.

"I seek the proprietress, Esmera," Ramaya kept her voice firm even as her shoulders trembled.

The brute made her wait, wanting her to squirm in discomfort, "Very well."

The fire daemon was foiled by the proprietress herself. The seductive chuckle signaled Esmera's arrival.

Tall and statuesque, the red headed siren held out her arms and enfolded Ramaya into her embrace. "It has been too long, little one," her smoky musical voice made Ramaya shiver. "It is not healthy to deny your needs, precognition or no."

Esmera operated a stew, Sensuality, in the far alleys of the city proper. Incense burned along with candlelight, soft and seductive. Young dewy flesh was on display, from all four kingdoms. It was illegal to peddle human flesh in a brothel; all three slave tomes protected the humans. One small indignity lessened under the heavy burden of humanity, rather than be purchased for small indiscretions; humans were bought and sold like livestock.

It made Ramaya wonder if Rami knew of her own indiscretions and if he had, would he have purchased Ashley in the first place. Rami was telepathic to Ramaya's empathy, but a quirk of fate had her thoughts blinded to her brother.

"Shall I have Petal prepared for you, darling?" Esmera nuzzled Ramaya's cheek before stepping back, her slender hands warm on Ramaya's hips.

"I need to talk to you, Esmera," Ramaya hated the weakness in her pleading tone.

"This way," Esmera's hips swayed seductively wrapped in a thin sarong of bold purple, her breasts barely contained in similar fabric of pale green. She motioned for Ramaya to sit. 

Blushing, Ramaya looked down and away as Esmera fondled a sleek, nude merman lounging against her desk. Wet kisses were easily heard before the merman took his leave and shut the portal with a quiet snick.

"Such pretty toys," Esmera said with a wicked smile, "Now tell me what is on your mind, darling, outside of depriving yourself of the pleasures of the flesh."

"Rami," Ramaya's voice was hoarse and she cleared her throat with a wince, "Rami purchased a slave for me as a gift."

Esmera sat back in her wide leather chair, "Really," she pursed her lips and shook her head, "that is most surprising. Female?"

"No," Ramaya twisted her fingers into the fabric of her skirt, "male."

"Then he does not know..."

Ramaya shook her head, "Not that it would matter to my brother. Rami owns a female and a male slave."

Esmera laughed, low and smooth, "Merrie and Laurie are much lauded for their beauty and their subservience to their master."

Clenching her fingers into fists, "Help me, Esmera I do not know how to be a slave owner. I see the worst of the kingdoms in my chambers. I never wanted a slave for myself."

"Why not?" Blunt words, Ramaya's head snapped to meet Esmera's gaze head on, "You slink down here as if it is a sin to take care of your needs." She waved off Ramaya's protest, "You are not the only one. Some find purchasing like kind for a tumble seductive rather than the banality of courtship. Others find the sin of adultery against one mate's heady. It is not for me to judge, just to provide the beautiful bodies for purchase."

"Pleasure slaves..." Ramaya began and Esmera merely rolled her eyes.

"Pleasure slaves, slaves in general are an investment and no better than children. That is not the service I provide." Esmera reclined once more and studied Ramaya, "Maybe Rami was correct, a soft supple body to sate your needs and a way to soothe your bleeding heart when it comes to slave ownership. You make a difference in their lives from your chambers and you will make a difference in one slave's life."

Speechless, Ramaya ducked her head. She could not deny or protest Esmera's logic. The siren sighed gustily.

"Ramaya, you are too hard on yourself and needn't be, not strapped down with the curse of empathy as well. You feel too much of others and rarely give time to yourself and your own needs." She tapped her lips with a shiny coral tipped nail. "Enjoy your time with Petal, find physical relief and I will compile a list of things that you will need that takes in your unique sensibilities." White teeth flashed and soothed the sting of the gentle jibe.

The coins jingled as Ramaya withdrew the leather pouch from the folds of her skirt, "Same as always?"

Esmera waved the proffered payment away, "Consider it a gift, I will get compensation from the proprietor for sending business his way." Esmera lifted a crystal bell from her desk and rang it twice. Her grin turned more lascivious as she peered over Ramaya's shoulder, "Ah Petal, how lovely."

Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, Ramaya pushed herself to standing leaving her discarded crossa robe behind. Trust may be too heavy a word for Esmera, but discretion paid her bills. Petal stood framed in by the portal. Wispy lace draped about her hips, pearls harvested from the depths of the ocean coiled about her wrists and ankles.

Ashley would be just as pretty with soft downy leather adoring the four points of bondage. 

Petal's wide wings of her angelyne blood line were iridescent, the shimmering highlights in her bound back hair. The soft translucent shari draped her shoulders and teased her breasts. Pink nipples easily evident in the sheer cloth knotted between the soft mounds of flesh. More pearls flirted between the deep valley and drew the eye to the sweet earlobes. Ramaya ignored Esmera chuckle of delight as she took Petal's supple hand and was led deeper into the stew. The muted sounds of pleasure along with the vivid emotions of lust and avarice tingled along Ramaya's flesh.

The angelyne whore turned and gave a smirk. Her body was an offering before the small bed.

"Take it off," Ramaya ordered hoarsely and then shook he head when Petal's hands teased between her lush breasts, "From the bottom."

"Yes, Lady," her hands slid down her flat belly, fingers trailing over the lace at her hips. The wrap dropped away, forgotten at Petal's bare feet. The slit between her thighs was wet and glistening.

Ramaya stepped closer, just close enough that their breasts teased one another. Petal gasped quietly when Ramaya dipped a finger between her legs and slid the ghosting touch upward to the tie holding the shari together. Plucking the tightened buds, the fabric loosened under Ramaya's touch.

"On the bed."

Arranged on the bed, the tail feathers pressed against the backs of Petal's thighs, white and pink. The shari slipped to the bends of her elbows. Petal flirted, rubbing her knees together. At the low rumbling growl, Petal tipped her head back with a peal of laughter, the pearls slipping and sliding across her chest. Her neck was long and exposed.

She stripped slowly, dark eyes filled with lust. Ramaya's knee planted on the soft mattress as she loomed over Petal. The whore licked her pink lips and reached out. Ramaya caught her wrist easily; they had played this game more often than not when her needs overwhelmed her. She lifted the thin wrist to her nose and inhaled before biting the soft skin. Petal yelped and tried to pull her hand away.

"No." Ramaya took the free wrist and lifted both of the girl's arms above her head. Petal reflexively held onto the bed frame, presenting her long lean body for Ramaya. "Open to me." Petal's eyes narrowed and did the opposite, pressing her knees and thighs together. It made her laugh, the little tired ploys.

Moving to kneel, Ramaya's hands circled Petal's ankles, smoothing up the gentle swell of calves, and grasped the backs of her knees. Petal jerked at the light touch to sensitive flesh, Ramaya used the movement to open the slender thighs, revealing the damp folds of flesh and distended nub of pleasure.

"Slut," Her voice was hoarse as her mouth watered. "So wet and so needy,” Ramaya dipped a finger between Petal's legs, teasing the soft lips before pressing the sensitive spot. Petal gasped and pushed her hips up into the touch, "Greedy too, but not yet."

Watching, belly heating with lust, she slipped her fingers deep within the writhing body, combing her free hand across soft feathers and into the silky white hair. Gripping the pale strands at her nape, Ramaya crushed Petal's lips against her own.

Wet slick heat surrounded her, the smell of sex and arousal heavy in the air. Wet mouth to plunder as her fingers made the soft pliant body arch upward with needy moans. The angelyne female wrapped her slim legs about Ramaya's hips.

"Please," Petal bit out, her hips rolling and canting upward, the folds spread wide and glistening. Her pale hair fanned out like ribbons around her head. Ramaya ignored the plea, so desperate, so unique from one angelyne to another, the promise of power flirting just beneath the surface.

Her mouth tingled with sweat and pleasure as she feasted on the soft column of throat, the lush breasts that cradled her face and lips. She nipped at the trembling skin of the girl’s belly before dipping her tongue into the shallow well of Petal’s navel. 

The scent was heavy and heady, the damp arousal dripping against the tightened inner thighs.

Ramaya could easily give the girl her pleasure, but Petal was a gift. Giving a teasing nip to the girl's pink nipple, she pressed her thumb against the aching, protruding nub. Focusing her power, the ripples of electricity caused Petal's body to strain, her muscles bow tight as she screamed, her body giving up in shattering release. Ramaya did not let go until the girl gave a painful moan and squeezed her thighs together.

She rolled them across the messy bed clothes in disarray from Petal's passion and flailing limbs. Ramaya stared up the vision of pale pink and white angelyne beauty. Petal straddled her hips; the damp warmth rubbed into her skin and enflamed her own lustful need. 

The whore ground down on her while playing with her heavy breasts. Ramaya allowed it until her own need was too great. She pushed against the girl's hips and Petal took the command, sliding downward with brushes of soft pale flesh against honey toned skin until she settled between Ramaya's open thighs. 

Inhaling deeply at the first teasing swipe of tongue, Ramaya relaxed into the sensations of teasing licks to her most intimate opening, the soft hair and wings flirting against her skin. Fingers wrapped in long blonde hair, she found her pleasure thrusting against the wet teasing tongue. Her heel hooked about the girl's hips as the frenzy swelled and burst forth quick and sure. She didn't release Petal until the aftershocks died away. Petal rested her head against Ramaya's thigh, purring into the soothing touches to her scalp and neck.

She wanted mor and she could have. Petal had not been purchased but given to her as a gift. Ramaya coaxed the girl up as she reclined against the pillows. The pretty brow puckered in confusion. Ramaya tasted her pleasure and enjoyed the soft moans as the salty, musky taste infused against her tongue. Ramaya held her close, the slit brushing against her chest as she wrapped her arm about the girl's hips. Petal took the implied suggestion and began to ride in a soft rocking motion against Ramaya. Watching her closely, Ramaya landed a soft blow against the whore's buttocks. Petal jerked in surprise and then moaned, her hips rocking between Ramaya's hand and her chest, rubbing and writhing even as she cried out as the paddling blows became quicker and harder.

With a cry, Petal's wings expanded as if in flight as she came shuddering and hard. The reddened warm skin was cradled in Ramaya's hands as she leaned forward to take her fill of the girl's wet slippery release. Petal slumped down into her arms, replete and heavy-eyed.

Ramaya bathed in the small alcove joining the room that smelled of their coupling. Petal lay belly down on the mess of bedclothes, her wings relaxed, the curve of her buttocks pink and enticing. Groaning at the mental image, Ramaya let the water fall onto her face, rushing in rivulets, washing away sweat and sexual lust.

She would be lying to herself if she denied the abject curiosity of Petal's mild pain mixed with her arousal. It gave her more to think about, the possibilities of the same with Ashley, his skin turning red from her hand as he cried out in pleasure.

Dressing quickly, Ramaya twisted her wet curls up and off her neck. Esmera was waiting, with a wicked smile and a roll of parchment.

"Swan owns a private establishment near the markets of La Mer." She passed the parchment into Ramaya's hand with a kiss to her blushing cheek. "I think you will find the accommodations much more to your liking, darling." Esmera stepped back, her expression turning more thoughtful, "Remember, with no intentions of harming your slave, he is still your property, still yours to enjoy and use. Taking pleasure in a slave of that nature is not crime, Ramaya."

Ramaya's mind was full of swirling thoughts as she followed Esmera's directions. She needed to move swiftly, the sun was on the final leg of its celestial journey. Ashley would be waiting and in need of direction.

The door swung open to reveal an elf dressed in a kilton riding low on his narrow hips, chest naked except for necklaces of shell and stone. Long tumbling brown hair was swept back with a gold circlet bringing attention to the intelligent amber eyes, the sweep of pointed ear, and when he smiled, elvish incisors were gleaming and sharp.

His eyes narrowed on Ramaya's crossa ruby.

"Not often do I receive guests from the Crossus," He seemed to take in more of Ramaya's haphazard appearance, the parchment clutched in her fist, and her robe held against her bare midriff like a shield. "And not official, please, enter and be welcome."

"I seek the proprietor Swan." Ramaya said nervously. The room was dark wood and jewel toned fabrics, low settees and waiting tables. The walls held paintings from all four kingdoms, each elemental being in the throes of ecstasy. Smaller scenes depicting bondage, pain, the slave looking up at the Master in adoration.

Ramaya's palm vibrated and the vision encompassed her being, quick and sure. No longer was homage paid to the ghods of old. The elemental beings supplanted the vague ideas and theology with a more realistic ideal. Humans worshiped at the feet of the elements, serving the Master or the Mistress. For blessing or ill tiding laid in the murky of what is to come. Ramaya could only see what is.

"And you have found him, Lady Crossa," Swan waved an elegant hand at the parchment, "That is for me?"

"What? Oh yes," Ramaya blushed, looking away from the male human slave lovingly drawn, kneeling in supplication at the feet of a Mistress engrossed in conversation, her hand resting against the slave's hair.

The elf clicked his tongue as he read the parchment, his face slowly transforming from concentration to a happy grin. "Welcome, young Mistress." Swan gestured to a red door leading deeper into his storehouse. "Esmera is a true treasure. I will put together a standard kit to her specifications while you are choosing basic garb and adornments. From my understanding, you were unprepared for the ownership of your slave. Worry not. I will send you along with two cycles worth of supplies and have the rest transported.”

Ramaya followed him into a room filled with shelves and racks and tables. She mumbled her agreement and then focused in to give Swan the details for payment. He left her at the wrack of wraps, sarongs, and vests. Thinking of Ashley's blue eyes, she choose blues and greens the textures would be soft and comfortable. A soft white open shirt drew her eye. She could easily envision Ashley with the blue sarong wrapped around his narrow hips and the shirt draped from his shoulders.

"Very fine choices, young Mistress." Swan said appearing at her side.

Ramaya bit her lip at the heavy satchel swinging from his grasp. What had Esmera requested? The elf took her purchases and wrapped them. Her nervous fingers went to her ruby.

"What of jewelry?"

Swan blinked at her with soft eyes, "What do you prefer, Mistress?"

"A necklace of blue stones to start with? Where do I procure body adornments?"

Scratching his chin, Swan considered, "Is he pierced?"

"I know not."

With a decisive nod, Swan turned to a small drawer. His hands rifled through the contents before drawing out a short necklace of blue stone and silver. "Is this to your liking, Mistress?"

The cool textures warmed against her flesh. Ramaya wanted to see it resting on Ashley's throat, a more elegant signature of ownership rather than a clunky collar. "Yes, may I purchase it now?"

"Of course, Mistress." He slipped the necklace into a soft washed leather pouch. "And as for the rest, bring your young slave here, Mistress. You can design his outer dressings to your preference and I have recommendations for both jewelers and body adorners."

"You are most gracious," Ramaya remarked handing over the coin.

"A friend of Esmera's is welcomed here, Mistress. Bring your boy any time."

Slipping on her robe, Ramaya lifted her purchases, "Good eventide."

"Good eventide, Mistress."

Stepping back into the quiet street, Ramaya watched the moon slowly begin its rise. Her belly clenched. She needed to return to Ashley.

*~*

The hunched figure sat rocking on the small cot, back and forth. Bleary eyes stared sightlessly into the shadowed corner. Fingers twitched restlessly, the deeply lined mouth mumbling the invisible words.

"The story," the voice gasped, with a sound tired and broken, "the story must be told."

Brother Duncan stiffened, "Easy now brother, you must rest." He helped the troubled man onto his back. The elvin features were disjointed without the sharp incisors instead blunted teeth bit down into chapped bloody lips. 

Duncan rested a hand on Augustine's fevered brow, "Rest." He whispered and called to his own element, the power of water and dreams. "Be at peace." The eyes darted from left to right as eyelashes fluttered desperately to stay open, "Sleep and dream."

Augustine's features went slack. Duncan made to move when his own eyemark vibrated. The vision left him gasping and pale, slumped on the floor at Augustine's bedside.

"No..." the pain filled whisper gently echoed off the stone walls of the tiny domicile.

The winds howled across the icy plains of Solitude.

*~*

Ramaya nodded to her fellow members of the Crossus as she made her way to her living quarters. The bag was heavy, her arm ached and yet her footsteps slowed. It was time to face her slave.

For the most part, she knew he would be okay but Ramaya was still uncomfortable with sharing her living space and slavery in general, despite her protection of red tome law. Her breathing was slow and deep as she pushed open the door.

The rooms were darkened and still. She opened her mouth to call out for Ashley and thought better of it. Her robe was placed on the hook, her curls were pulled out of the band to rest about her shoulders, and Ramaya made her way into her home.

The satchel rattled with its contents when set on the low settee. Letting her shields relax, Ramaya could feel her slave. He was close by and miserable. To give herself more time, she checked the kitchen, spotless as she had left it. Frowning, she opened the cold box and relaxed.

Ashley had followed her directive and fixed himself a meal. The hunk of cheese was much smaller and fruit was missing from the bowl. 

She could not figure out the source of his misery. He was no longer in a training house. He was no longer abused. Ramaya had left him with plenty of food and ways to entertain himself. 

Strengthening her resolve, she sought him out in the dormitory.

His profile showed pain as he stared up at the moonlit window. The candles were extinguished and the silver blue light cast the room in shadows. His back was against the wall and he was sitting on his hands.

Puzzled, Ramaya moved closer. She could see the slight tremor in his bare thighs and his toes dug into the thin mattress.

"Ashley?"

He started and launched himself to the floor with little grace. His forehead touched the floor at her feet but not before she saw the state he was in. Ashley's thighs were spread wide to accommodate the dusky length of his arousal. 

Ramaya's heart ached for him. She knelt beside him and placed a careful hand on his shoulder, bare as the rest of his body and cool to the touch. He flinched, the muscles in his back tightened. Biting her bottom lip, Ramaya reached out and cupped his chin, lifting until his blue eyes met her own. He followed her touch until he knelt before her, his cheeks flushed red with embarrassment, his eyes holding discomfort and a hint of anger.

"Why did you not ease your body's needs?" Ramaya gestured to her slave's groin with honest curiosity, she disregarded the anger. That was an issue for another day.

Ashley's gaze darted away as he licked his bottom lip, trying to compose himself, Ramaya realized. She could feel him trying to reign in and dampen his raging emotions.

"With respect, Mistress, it was not one of your directives before your departure." His voice was low and husky.

Ramaya sat back on her heels. Blasted Rami! She was not meant to be a slave owner. She had hurt him, her slave without even realizing it. Grasping at what little knowledge she had, Ramaya plunged forward.

"You were taught to control your needs?"

Ashley's eyes narrowed marginally. "Until a slave is purchased, my training house puts all slaves on a schedule. We are allowed to seek relief once a day. My body..." He paused and looked to the window, "My body only reacted to its training, Mistress, please forgive me for displeasing you."

Scrubbing a hand over her face, Ramaya stood. "I was not aware." Trying for resolve, she stood and looked down him. "Take care of your physical need and clean up. Meet me in the main room."

Ramaya barely heard the "yes, Mistress," as she fled the oppressive space.

Mechanically, she set aside the folded garments, deciding to leave the satchel for a later perusal when she was not so drained physically and emotionally. Ramaya did not trust herself with whatever Esmera had planned for her as a surprise. She deposited the heavy satchel just inside her room but clutched the small washed leather bag that held the chain for Ashley.

Ashley

She could feel his misery ease even if there was underlying pain and resignation. Leaning against the wall in the shadows of the moon light, Ramaya let her mind wonder.

Would he pleasure himself before stepping into the cleansing fall of water or would he take himself in hand as the water sluiced over his body? Ramaya's eyes fluttered shut. She thought of his bowed body, tense with need. She could have watched. Had him splayed before her, the kiss of moonlight on his muscled body as his hand, his elegant fingers slipped and slid along that blood rich hungry part of himself. Would he let his free hand trail over his skin, along his belly, down between his trembling thighs to cup his delicate, shifting sac, as it drew up tight with the potent need for release? 

Licking her lips, Ramaya thought how pretty he would be with glints of gold at this tightened nipples, the shallow well of his navel, peeking just beneath his sac. Places that she could touch, make him cry out with desire.

Her head thumped against the wall. Ashley was hers, to do her will, to please her. It would please her to see his body arched in helpless abandon as his seed splattered against his sweat glistened skin, his chest heaving, his blue eyes slitted with sleepy satisfaction.

How heady was the power of one life dictating to another? And how shameful, Ramaya hugged her arms around her middle. So different than the casual disregard for Petal, prostitution was a choice, albeit not a good one. Slavery was not.

Ashley did not have a choice if she so chose to use him. He would have to submit to her will, a remembrance of his station.

Ramaya sighed. She wanted and she castigated herself for that want. Sensing his soft footsteps, Ramaya looked up and took in her slave. His hair was damp and curling at his nape. Ashley's knuckles were white almost bloodless as he clutched the blanket around his narrow hips. His expression was wary and unsure.

Gesturing to the pile of garments, “Take these to your room and put them away neatly. Dress in a sarong and join me for the meal."

She gnawed at her bottom lip. Normally she would place her order with Crossus staff. Ramaya realized that she would need more foodstuffs for both her and Ashley. Rami's royal court schedule was not as busy as her own. He took Laurie and Merrie into the market to do his own shopping.

The empty beds in the slave dormitory were enough of a consideration. She knew that other members of the Crossus had house slaves. And then there was the ancestral home to think about as well. Ramaya huffed a small sigh, placing bread and meat on the table. Having a slave in her life made her much more aware of things she had never given much thought to. She had gone from solitude to the Crossus, making her own suite of rooms a safe sanctuary whereas her brother had embraced the freedoms and blessings of his station.

Ashley joined her at the table and ate what she provided for him. He drank the water thirstily and it made her wonder at her own assumptions for his care. She was still an unknown to him and he was feeling his way to keep himself safe by following her dictates explicitly.

She sighed deeply. And felt Ashley go ramrod stiff at her side. Standing, Ramaya poured the necklace into her hand and stepped up behind her slave. His skin was warm under her palm as she gently stroked him from the side of his neck to the top of his shoulder. She kept up the soothing motion until Ashley relaxed fractionally beneath her touch.

"I have much to learn, Ashley," Ramaya said and bit back a sigh as Ashley tensed at her voice. "I harm you without even realizing and that is not my intention. I will be the best Mistress that I can be."

She felt his intake of breath as if he was going to speak but the words did not come. The anger and resignation flared against her shields as well.

"What did you want to say?"

The question made him recoil from beneath her touch. He fought to look forward even though she could tell he wanted to whip around and make eye contact with her. "Why keep me, Mistress?" The words were said respectfully but each one bitten off. Ramaya watched the muscles in his face ripple as he tried to keep his composure. "Slaves are easily sold."

The statement bordered on being too bold but Ramaya wanted Ashley's honesty. She knew that she had not gained his trust. She thought of the pictures in Swan's salon, the imagery of the slave looking up at the Master or Mistress with complete trust and devotion. Ashley could go through the motions, be the epitome of the perfect slave on the outside. It was Ramaya's right, according to current slave practices to demand it.

She didn't want to. If Ashley was to be hers, then they would have to work at it, together. 

The necklace settled around his throat and Ashley gasped. Confusion and hope poured off of him in waves.

"Easily sold, very true," Ramaya murmured, "But it's not going to happen, least wise we are still learning one another." She trailed her fingers along the cool stones and warm skin. Her magic bonded the ends of the necklace together. Only she would be able to remove it. "I am going to ask you to take care of your basic needs, your grooming, your hunger and thirst, and your body's needs without direction from me." 

At her words, Ashley did turn, his face touching the inside of Ramaya's arm. She cupped his cheek, her skin gold against his pale flesh. "I know you do not trust me, I can't ask that of you. But I give you my word, on my vow as a Crossa, that I will never punish you unduly. We will always talk about a behavior or a directive first. If you willfully disobey me then I will take measures for you to understand my resolve as your Mistress. I do not find joy or pleasure at another's pain and I will protect you as is my right as well."

Ashley's breath was warm on her skin. He turned fractionally so that his cheekbone pressed into her palm. "Yes, Mistress, thank you, Mistress."

*~*

Ramaya's days were filled with the case against Ronon. She had enough evidence to procure another Crossi from brown tome law. The slaves would be remanded back to the training houses for medical care and resale. And as a part of her initial ruling, the elf would not be able to purchase another slave; rather he would have to contract out services.

If it were only so easy, she sighed and accepted the cup of juice from Pascal. Ronon had appealed to the king himself.

Which brought Rami, to her chambers.

Expecting to go over the case, Ramaya's eyebrows drew up in surprise as her brother's gaze darted about her chambers. Laurie and Merrie kept the expected two step distance behind him.

"Is there something in particular you are looking for, brother mine, because the evidence and case logs are on my desk."

"Where is the boy?" Rami demanded, his on brow beetled into a frown.

"Ashley?"

"Yes, if that is the name you gave him, the slave that was gifted to you," Rami scrubbed a hand over his brow. "Why is he not here?"

Ramaya could feel Rami's frustration and her own back stiffened. She knew intellectually that there must be more to her brother's ire than her slave not attending her in her chambers, but the familial bond did not give lassitude or forgiveness lightly.

"That would be none of your business, brother mine," Ramaya snapped. She lifted the heavy book containing precedent she intended to argue. "Were you wanting to discuss Ronon?"

"The imbecilic slave starving elf? No," Rami dismissed the text and the case with an impatient wave of his hand. "The King is sympathetic to the plight of the slave; Ronon will find no recompense at the royal court."

The book landed with a dull thump. So it would be that easy after all, Ramaya thought, surprise and excitement taking a well deserved place in satisfaction of a job well done. Her gaze narrowed on her brother. 

"Then why are you here?"

Rami sat in the leather chair across from her desk. Ramaya could see Laurie and Merrie moving cautiously about him, anticipating his needs and wishes. Her brother gave his male slave a sheepish apologetic look, pulling Laurie to him by his shoulders and kissing his mouth. Laurie sagged into Rami's touch before kneeling at his feet, his blonde head resting against Rami's thigh. Merrie was settled into her brother's lap, cuddled close so that her head was against his shoulder.

"Whispers throughout the Crossus, sister mine." Rami's gaze bored into her own. "A red tome Crossa, a slave owning Crossa, and the slave is never seen," Rami held up a hand to stave off her protest, "It's Ronon and his ilk, planting seeds of doubt in your protection of the red tome. You are a known slave owner now, Maya, and you are being watched."

"You brought this upon me?" Ramaya sat back in her chair, shock curdled her belly.

"What?" Rami's brows shot upward in surprise, "No, I would never do such a thing." He took a moment burrowing his face against Merrie's red curls. "Ignore the politics of the Crossus. I am worried about you, Maya, you." Rami started his voice heavy with concern. "I have asked about the Crossus, about your slave, and no one has seen him. I know the hours you take in your chambers. He was meant to be your companion. And yet you have slotted him off into your sanctuary," Her brother sighed, his proud shoulders slumping, "You are still alone." 

Ramaya felt trapped. She wanted to strike out at her brother, to remind him her life was her own. The truth of his words weighed heavily on her heart. 

The satchel, the gift from Esmera sat ignored in her bedroom. The other boxes that had been delivered had been shoved into the training room in the slave dormitory. She was satisfied that her slave was properly attired. However, if she were honest with herself, Ashley wilted a little each day. The hopeful spark in his blue eyes as she departed each day had dulled to the barest hint of acknowledgement of her departure. 

It had been very easy to adapt Ashley's presence in her life. Ramaya would readily admit that she enjoyed seeing him in the evenings, having him at her side during the meals, feeling his warm weight at her feet as she read. She just could not find an opening for more. She was neither ready nor comfortable for more.

Her dreams and her desires had awakened for him, remembering furtive couplings with males while in Solitude. The ease and uncomplicated desire of purchasing Petal for her carnal desires were being met with barely concealed disapproval by Esmera. The siren brothel owner would look behind her for her slave and then ignore Ramaya as the coin exchanged hands.

She had only been twice since being gifted her slave. 

And now the heavy weight of her brother’s reproof and judgment rested on her shoulders.

"My life is none of your concern, Rami," Ramaya gestured to Laurie and Merrie, "I have never once offered my opinion on your property." The word soured on her tongue even as Rami's expression darkened. Ramaya knew that her brother's adoration for his two beautiful slaves was genuine. 

"Then grant me your lauded opinion, Ramaya," Rami replied and Ramaya flinched at the alien angry tone.

She sighed, letting her forehead rest on her palms, her elbows steepled on her messy desk. "I did not mean it, Mimi." She let her brother in, her posture unguarded, "I have failed, haven't I?"

Rami shifted and Merrie slipped gracefully to kneel beside Laurie. She watched with longing at how her brother's slaves understood their Master without even being spoken to, just a shift, a gesture and the two humans knew how to care for her brother.

"You haven't failed, Maya," Rami stood and moved around her desk. Her brother pulled her to her feet and embraced her. Ramaya tried to hold herself apart but could not at the comfort being offered. "You just refuse to open yourself up." He kissed her forehead and smiled sadly. "I care not for the pitiful blathering of disgruntled commoners. You are my sister first and foremost, always."

Ramaya played with his thick soft curls, so like her own. She gave him a hesitant smile. 

"Do you trust me, sister mine?"

It was on the tip of her tongue to say no, to point out the mess that she was in. But his smile was so familiar, so loving, that her smile broadened, "Even if it is foolhardy, brother mine, yes."

"Then I have a plan."


End file.
